


The Colour of Truth

by Palefire73



Series: Loki Origins [44]
Category: Frigga - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Norse Gods - Fandom
Genre: Deceit, Disappointment, Gen, Growing Up, Learning what Lies are, lying, white lies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22558567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palefire73/pseuds/Palefire73
Summary: Loki begins to learn that he cannot take the word of his elders for granted and that they seem to employ lying in their daily lives.
Relationships: Loki and his mother
Series: Loki Origins [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/307443
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Colour of Truth

Ahh, what it is to lie! Lying is indisputably an innate part of human nature and intrinsic, too, to the natural realm. Deceit is inherent in so many ways to the order of the world and yet most of us would profess to abhor the purposeful utilisation of it, even though we employ it ourselves. “Lies are deceitful, crafted for unfair gain and a sign of cowardice and slyness!” are they not? Yet, one could argue that they are also a means to keep the peace, to enable something to go ahead without unnecessary conflict… to allow a tired parent to gain respite from an overactive child…

“Móðir?”

Frigga smiled patiently at what was probably the fifth instance of Loki wanting her attention in the last hour alone, never mind the rest of the morning! She laid the intricate piece of sewing she was working on upon a small table beside her, “Yes, my son?”

“Móðir, why are the clouds in the sky white today? Some days they are grey, or black, or even a bit green, but today they are only white.”

“Well, Loki, it is to do with the weather...” Frigga went on to explain a little of how clouds were formed and why, and was most relieved when Loki seemed to be content with her answer and returned to his drawing – which was of a cloudy day in Asgard. He was sitting on a rug between the two chairs she and Fulla occupied as the three of them spent a companionable afternoon in the Royal suite. The beautiful Queen picked up her embroidery and resumed creating tiny precise stitches in the lovely piece of Asgardian linen she had found in one of the tiny thrift shops in the city.

“Móðir?”

It was so difficult not to sigh! A brief moment of counting to ten in her silenced mind – silenced because she was well aware that Loki’s ability at hearing her inner voice was very well developed – calmed her initial annoyance so that she could say “Yes, my son?” in an even tone.

“Móðir, what is it within Thor that changes the clouds always to stormy ones? He can make really angry ones appear, so why does he never improve them when we have rain? We could play out all the time if he made them go away."

A smothered chuckle from Fulla made Frigga glance her way and the two women smiled at each other over the top of the young Prince’s head. It was so nice that Loki was growing up and was inquisitive about the realm in which he lived, but the amount of questions he had asked in the very short time since breakfast was rather amusing. However, the embroideries on which they were working whilst looking after the seven year old were for the celebration of a betrothal of one of the courtiers and time was running short to get them finished, and all of these tiny interruptions to Frigga’s work were beginning to drain her good humour.

“It is something your brother has to work on, Loki. At the moment, the thunder is a reaction to Thor’s temper and he is still quite new to the idea that he may have control over it in some way. Just you will learn more about your Seidr, so he will learn more about the clouds and the rain and how they are linked to him.” Frigga reached down and ruffled Loki’s soft brown hair, “Growing up is full of lessons about life and nature and even about each of us as individuals.”

“When will I know everything like you, Móðir?” Loki’s expression was quite serious as he looked up from his drawing and Frigga’s laughter died in her throat as she realised it was a genuine question.

“I do not know _everything_ , Loki! Far from it. I, too, learn something new every day!” She smiled and pointed at the picture Loki had drawn, indicating the clouds which he had magically caused to move across the paper, “For instance, you introduce me to something new about your abilities by the hour! Your picture is animated and that is something I would never have thought you could do until recently.”

“They look better when they do that.” Loki’s tone suggested he thought everyone should be able to make their drawings move and Frigga was reminded that he would have to be taught that his differences in ability to others was something he was going to have to be reassured about and encouraged, perhaps, to not point out on a regular basis.

“Indeed they do, my son,” she replied and returned once again to her embroidery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I am learning how to control it Loki! I have got lessons planned in with Faðir in order to harness the power and direct it!”

“But why don’t you make the rain go away Thor? I want to play outside!”

“Leave me in peace, Loki! I am supposed to be reading about the Jotúnn Wars so I can create ideas about how to defeat them.”

“Please, Thor...”

The golden haired Prince of Asgard sighed in irritation at his younger sibling. Loki had been pestering him about the rain for a good while now, and it was not as if it wasn't hard enough to study warfare when it was quiet. Hoping to get rid of him for a few hours at least, he placed his book on the desk in front of him and waved a fist at the window.

“Be gone, foul weather!” he yelled in as deep a voice as he could muster and waved his hand in what he hoped would look like a mysterious pattern, “There, Loki. You should be able to play outside without getting unduly soaked.”

Loki quickly snaked his arms around Thor’s waist from where he was standing beside him and hugged him awkwardly, almost overbalancing the Thunder God’s chair. “Oh, thank you brother!”

Thor watched in amusement as the younger Prince ran off to go to play outside; he had not commanded the clouds to go away of course, but a small patch of blue sky had happened along at just the right time and he had decided to use it to his advantage. He picked up his book and found the paragraph about how the Frost Giants could muster a blade of ice from their very flesh, and quickly forgot all about Loki.

Loki, in the meantime, scurried along the corridor that would lead out to a small private garden belonging to the Royal suites, happy in the knowledge that he could go outside and enjoy playing there without being bothered by rain. He was a little puzzled by the fact that Thor would not look him straight in the eye as he had reassured him that he would be alright; it was almost as if he did not believe what he was saying. However, the excitement of thinking up a new game to play quickly outweighed these thoughts and Loki dashed through the doors to get to the garden.

So it was with much dismay that he trudged back to the nursery shivering and miserable having been drenched by a particularly heavy downpour just minutes after having gone outside. As his mother bundled him into a hot bath and sent his clothes to the laundry, all he could do was wonder why Thor had told him that the weather would be fine, when it had been quite the opposite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks after the incident with Thor not controlling the weather as he had promised to, Loki was once again in the company of his mother and this time they were taking a walk through the grounds of the Palace. Although she had been feeling a little poorly for a few days with a temperature and a mild headache, Frigga was inspecting the general state of the Palace buildings and their surroundings with a view to perhaps modifying some of the older parts to modernise them. She was a widely travelled Goddess and loved to take inspiration from the realms she enjoyed visiting, and her influence could be seen throughout Asgard in its municipal properties, parks and statues. She was hoping the fresh air would do her some good and Loki had tagged along simply because he was becoming quite the explorer as he was getting older and had not visited much of the giant edifice in which he resided.

“Where are we now, Móðir?” he asked, skipping alongside her.

“This is the market garden, Loki. We grow a lot of what we eat here, see...” Frigga paused as she swallowed; she had a sore throat today! “...this is the soft fruit garden and there, just beyond that large green trellis, is the vine fruit garden.”

“What is vine fruit?” asked the curious young Prince.

“It is... ahem! Er... ahem!” The Queen quickly raised a soft handkerchief to her mouth as she struggled to clear her throat.

“Móðir, what is the matter?” Frigga’s heart melted at the concern in her son’s voice and, lowering the handkerchief, she smiled at him.

“It is my throat... oh!” her eyes widened in mirth as the words croaked dryly from her and Loki’s face fell.

“Oh, Móðir, your voice! Whatever is the matter with it?!”

“It... it...” Frigga’s words were faint and husky and the soreness – which had not been too bad before – became quite unbearable. “I need the healer,” she whispered as she touched her neck with her fingertips, spreading a little pain relief with her Seidr, “I am losing my voice”. She held out her hand and opened her mouth to speak, but it was simply too sore! Loki looked at her and his own words rang clear as a bell in her inner mind, “Móðir where is your voice?!”

Before she had a chance to communicate back to the sweet young boy, he had trotted back along the footpath a few steps and seemed to be looking on the ground. Puzzled by his actions, the Queen watched him for a moment as he then parted the leaves of a small plant and peered into its interior, then looked up to the ledge of a window before frowning and turning towards her.

“I cannot see it anywhere!” he called, before darting further back along the path and it was then that Frigga realised what he must be doing. He was looking for her lost voice! She smiled as she watched, but could not bear to let him carry on his futile search and she hurried after him before he could wander too far. He looked at her with a worried face as she reached him and she spoke to him with her inner voice to reassure him.

“Do not panic, Loki, I still have this voice!”

“But you have lost your noisy one!” he blurted, “Where could it be?”

“I do not know, my son, but I do know the Healers will have something for me that should bring it back. Will you escort me to the Healing Rooms?”

Straightening his back and holding out his elbow for his mother to hold onto, Loki nodded curtly, “Of course, my Queen,” he said in a solemn voice, and proceeded in the direction of the Palace Healers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“... and there were thousands of them! We were surrounded and all hope was lost – or so we thought. Yet, one by one, the nearest of them fell, clutching at their throats as if in the grasp of an unseen slayer and falling dead on the ground.”

Odin looked at the sea of young faces before him and was amused by the absolutely riveted look on them. The class of seven to ten year old children he had been asked to address were all rapt with attention to their King as he told them about the Battle of One Thousand Suns, a pivotal stage in a war many centuries ago in which he had fought as a young man.

“Yet what could it be, this sudden advantage to our side? Whatever had stricken the Cave Carroghs of Tavinto was not affecting our army, which consisted of Aesir, Vanir, Men and Fair Elves. We watched on with puzzlement as the ugly creatures dropped in a wave that drove a path across the battlefield, eventually leaving not a single one alive.” The King of Asgard peered around the room at the children with his solitary blue eye and crossed his strong arms across his substantial chest. “Who here can tell me what might have killed the enemy?” he asked, eyeing up the whole room, but settling his eye on Loki for a second or two more than everyone else. Hopefully, the youngster should have the answer.

A sea of hands shot up as the eager students vied to be the one to answer their King and Commander, but Odin was disappointed to see that Loki, who was at the back of the class, didn’t raise his as quickly as the others. However, he wanted to test the foster child’s aptitude for historical facts and he pointed him out anyway.

“Ah, Loki! I believe you were the first by the merest sliver of time!” he bellowed, staring hard at the Prince as if to indicate that there should be no argument. “Let us have your answer.” A flicker of surprise crossed Loki’s face at the blatant lie, and Odin reinforced his order before anything could be said to show him up, “Come along my young Prince,” he said rather more loudly than was really necessary, “let us see if your knowledge of warfare will stand you in good stead as a future King of Asgard!”

At those words, and under the very pressing scrutiny of his father, Loki faltered in his words. Why was Odin lying about him having been the first to raise his hand? Yet the volume of Odin’s insistence and the way he simply would not take his eye off him while he fidgeted in his seat quelled Loki’s desire to speak out about how Odin was not giving another student the chance to show off their intelligence. Swallowing the words of protest in his throat, he rose from his seat and watched as all the other hands withdrew from the air around him. Meeting that steady imperious gaze, he nodded at his father, “I believe you told us the battle had begun late in the night after the Carroghs invaded your camp?”

“I did indeed.” Confirmed Odin.

“And from your description of the fighting that ensued, you also have inferred that it lasted for several hours?”

“It did.” Odin’s eye shifted from Loki’s face and he looked away as if deep in memory. “We lost so many good men that night. The Carroghs were ferocious and skilled opponents.”

“Then it must have been one of the suns,” said Loki confidently. “If it was indeed a system of one thousand suns and you were fighting cave creatures in a rare true night, then at least one of the suns must have risen upon the battlefield, no matter how distant within the solar system, and the Carroghs must have been vulnerable to its rays. Perhaps it was a dark sun which gave off no light visible to you, but which was lethal to them.” Loki sat down, proud of his answer, but still unsure about why Odin had manipulated the situation in order to have him answer the question.

“There is a future King!” smiled Odin as he pointed at Loki and looked around at the other children, some of who turned to stare at Loki, whose face flushed with embarrassment. “Did you hear his logical and eloquent conclusion, the sign of a well-educated and intelligent youth? You can all rest assured that the Princes of the House of Odin Borson are being raised to ensure the ruling Realm will endure!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“My Queen?”

Frigga slowed her hurried stride along one of the corridors of the great Palace of Asgard to see who had called out to her. She was in rather a hurry to get Loki back to the nursery so that Fulla could look after him for her. There was a recital of the work of one of her favourite poets due to take place in the Summer Rooms and if she didn’t get there within the next ten minutes she was going to miss it. She turned around, Loki’s hand in hers, and saw that there was one of the Seneschal’s assistants there.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“My Queen, I apologise for the interruption,” the assistant lowered his eyes in deference and Frigga felt the beginnings of irritation, but fought it down.

“No matter,” she replied, thinking that it was indeed a great matter but also trying to be patient, “what is it?”

“Seneschal has asked me to let you know that the Master Baker has designed a new recipe and that they are rather hoping you would like to sample it to let them know if you think it is suitable for formal occasions.”

“Ah, I see. And when do they want me to do this?”

“Some time this afternoon, your Highness, if it pleases you?”

Frigga thought quickly; she did not want to disappoint Seneschal and the Palace’s Master Baker, but she so wanted to hear the poetry! It was very difficult being the Queen sometimes – everyone wanted attention and there was almost no time to oneself! She thought up a reason for not going that would sound much more important than poetry in the hope that Seneschal would be satisfied with it and not feel snubbed as a senior member of the household.

“Please pass on my apologies to Seneschal,” she smiled, “I am afraid I am tutoring Loki this afternoon and will not be able to come to the kitchens. Have him send some to my rooms with the evening meal and I will try it then.” She felt a slight change in the way Loki’s hand was holding hers and glanced down at him to see a strange look on his young face, but she winked at him very briefly before looking back at the assistant, “Please also tell him that we need to have a catch up very soon as the Empress of Skóglendi will be visiting in two weeks and we must be prepared.”

The assistant bowed his head curtly and set off back in the direction of the main Palace offices to tell his superior the Queen‘s message, while Frigga started off in the direction of the nursery. However, there was an element of resistance from Loki's hand and she looked at him in puzzlement.

“Loki? Whatever is the matter? Come along, we have to get you to Fulla!” She pulled slightly and Loki quickly followed after her. The Queen of Asgard forgot about the incident in her eagerness to get to the recital, but Loki was left wondering just why the magical dust motes that surrounded her had changed from their usual sparkling golden hue to an undertone of burnt orange as she had spoken to Seneschal’s assistant. As they made their way to the nursery, this darker and, in Loki’s mind, rather sinister colour, had faded to leave her usual beautiful golden Seidr signature, but Loki’s mind was intrigued and he was rather lost in thought about it for the rest of the afternoon. Yet no matter how he switched it this way and that, he always came back to the same conclusion: his mother’s Seidr had changed from her usual gold to an orangey colour only when she had been telling the Seneschal’s assistant what could only be described as an untruth. Although the Queen’s words would not cause harm to anyone and were certainly not said in a purposefully vindictive or damaging way, they had certainly not been the truth! Perhaps quite rightly, Loki’s mind connected them to the odd behaviours of his brother and father from other occasions and began to compare the conduct of the people involved: two of them had exhibited physical differences in their behaviour and the third had seemed to be perfectly normal physically, but had been given away by a magical change. All of them not quite telling the truth… and none of them getting away with it with the seven year old Prince. When Fulla came to take him to have his evening meal with his brothers later on, she was surprised when he told her the picture of a lady surrounded by orange dots he had drawn was of someone who could not be trusted!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only a couple of weeks later, the whole of the Royal Family had enjoyed a breakfast together before Odin and the two older Princes had gone off to a prestigious hunting lodge high up on the Mountain of Asgard. They were meeting up with Royal visitors from other realms who had also brought along their eldest children, and then going out to track some game for a feast to be held later that evening. In the meantime, Loki and Frigga had decided to go to their market garden to see if the heritage vegetables they had been growing were ready to harvest for the same meal. They had been sourced from all over the Nine and Frigga had been teaching Loki about how vegetables from different realms could have very different needs when they were cultivated. He had been a very attentive pupil, especially when learning about the different soils and how much water and sunlight they required, eventually managing to get the seeds and labels of them very neatly placed in the nursery beds. In the intervening weeks, he had diligently returned to ensure that anything like staking or thinning out or tying up was done and now the vegetable plot was looking very mature, with plenty of growth.

“Móðir, look!" laughed Loki as they arrived, "there are peas on the plants!" He ran on ahead and pointed proudly at the bushy climbers which had thrived on the wires he had spent ages securing along a row of wooden stakes.

"Indeed there are!" exclaimed Frigga, "let us try them, they are sweetest straight out of the pod."

Much to Loki's delight, there were many other vegetables that were giving forth their bounty, with Fire Potatoes from Svartalfheimr, Purple Heritage Carrots from Midgard, and Asgardian Golden Choufleur amongst them. He helped his mother to harvest them, carefully plucking them from vines and stem, or gently loosening them from the soft dark earth depending on what they were. He chatted almost non-stop about their colours, their flavours and how well they had grown on and Frigga's spirits were very high indeed as she watched him. However, the inevitable began to happen while they worked: Loki's incessant thirst for knowledge predictably spawned questions.

"Móðir?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Will the carrots stay purple when cooked?"

"No, we will have these raw in a salad instead."

"Móðir, if we roast the Fire Potatoes, will they turn to embers?"

"We do not need to roast the Fire Potatoes Loki. You know they are dangerous and we have to keep them wet and in the dark until we need them. Then we wash the soil off, put them in a strong baking tin and leave them to dry out. The skin spontaneously combusts once dry and they roast themselves!" Frigga raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it is best if I sort them out?"

"Perhaps… Móðir, can we please ask the Head chef to make that peek-ont sauce for the shoo-fleur? It is delicious!"

"Yes!" laughed Frigga, “he can make the piquant cheese sauce! We will use the aged Asgardian cow's milk cheese from earlier in the year. It should be "piquant" enough!"

"Móðir…"

Frigga was leaning into a particularly dense patch of imported Swiss Chard to pick some when Loki asked his next question and she did not hear him properly, but before she could ask him what he wanted…

"Móðir! What do you think?"

"What do I think of what, Loki?!" she asked somewhat harshly as she stood up. She loved to teach Loki, but he was really on fire with his questions today and it was slowing them down terribly. She felt a pang of guilt as his young face, streaked with dirt from the gardening, fell at her tone and she smiled in the hope of cheering him back up, "What did you ask of me, my son?"

"I was wondering if we could breed a special runner bean for Faðir…" Loki's voice was a little subdued and Frigga felt a little shamed by her impatience.

"I am quite sure we could have a go at that Loki. He would be honoured!"

Loki's face lit up and he pointed over at the salad bed. "Shall we pick some?" he asked.

They went over and began to select curly lettuces, long tomatoes bred especially for slicing, lemon gem cucumbers, green radishes and all manner of other salad vegetables, and once again Loki's questions started. Frigga began to feel the beginnings of a headache descending and wished Loki would perhaps run out of things to say and ask so that she could concentrate on casting a bit of alleviative Seidr.

"Móðir…"

"Móðir…"

Frigga's answers to the questions her son was asking became shorter and more terse, but her hardening attitude didn't seem to be putting him off! There had to be a way of making him give up his interrogation and give her poor head a rest! Clearing her throat in order to answer his latest query, she had a sudden idea.

"Ahem, well, they are revered, ah-huh! Revered as blood cleansers…" Frigga covered her mouth and made a small coughing noise but avoided looking at Loki as if to emphasise that it was nothing. She placed some blue salad onions in the basket they were using, "Hm-hmmm, do you think that will suffice? There will be – Ahem! - twenty of us."

"Móðir, are you well?" Loki carried over some Midgardian Beef Tomatoes and placed them in the basket, "your throat sounds a bit sore."

"It is nothing, my son, it is just somewhat dry I think." Frigga allowed another cough to materialise before pointing to where the Asgardian Watercress was growing. She added just a touch of croakiness to her voice, "Gather some of that, my son. It has a lovely peppery flavour." As Loki went to get some of the deep green plant, she coughed more severely and muttered something indistinct in a weakened voice. Loki instantly scurried back to her, "There is something wrong, Móðir!" he exclaimed, "open your mouth!"

Somewhat puzzled by his remark, Frigga opened her mouth and Loki looked inside as if searching for a morsel of food stuck somewhere in her teeth. "Is it in there?" he asked.

Wondering where this was going, Frigga whispered, "Is what in here?"

"It is disappearing again!" he said, his eyes growing worried as he began to look on the ground around her feet. "Your voice, what does it look like?"

All of a sudden Frigga realised her ruse was working and she cleared her throat again before saying in a much reduced voice, "it does not really ‘look’ like anything. It is simply the sound I make…" She shrugged, "I think I am losing it again!"

"No!" Exclaimed Loki, "it took days for it to come back last time! This time it might be lost for good!"

Not really looking at his mother, the young Prince began to search amongst the plants, firstly where they had been harvesting food for the feast and then starting to go further away. Frigga watched him feeling only a little guilty; at least she could have a bit of a rest from his chatter and questioning! He looked her way as he walked around one of the raised beds containing the gourd plants and he asked, "has it completely gone? Have you lost your voice again?" Frigga nodded with a small sad smile and mouthed quietly, " _yes I have. Can you find it for me_?" before turning back to carefully snipping bunches of fresh Basil and Parsley for the kitchens. In turning her eyes from her son, however, she did not see the change in his expression, nor did she see him come to a standstill only to stare at her in a peculiar way.

_Why was Móðir lying?_

Loki stared as the beautiful golden motes of Seidr that surrounded his mother subtly altered in colour. As she whispered that her voice had gone, the bright warm tones he associated with feelings of love and safety became tainted with an ugly burnt orange here and there and a strange feeling grew in his stomach. A look of puzzlement appeared on his young face as he wondered why his mother was not being honest with him and when his intelligent mind worked out that she was deceiving him so that she might not have to talk to him, hurt entered his heart.

The complete silence from Loki, although welcome, was very swift even though Frigga had wanted it, and her Mother's Intuition suddenly kicked her on her backside. She turned to look at him just in time to see him turn his back on her to mess around in a patch of dandelions, but something in his slumped shoulders and the half-hearted way he was ‘searching’ for her lost voice told her all was not well. He was not rushing around shouting out for it like the time she had really had a sore throat, indeed he seemed to not be concerned at all and all of his energy appeared to have evaporated. However, as she placed her tools down and turned to go over to him, she caught sight of her faint Seidr trail - something she did not usually notice any more than she might her shadow - and realised she was in trouble with him. She only just saw it, because it was fading away again, but an unmistakable taint of orange was there; stark evidence of her lie.

And she knew Loki must have seen it. A few years ago, they had played hide and seek in the Royal suites and Loki had found her quickly and easily because he had the sight, whereas his brothers did not. He had simply followed the trail of her Seidr before it had completely faded and had been victorious, but now he had seen a side of it that he had perhaps not been prepared for, especially from his mother.

Frigga sighed. She had been caught out and this was going to take quite the explanation…

**Author's Note:**

> It's tough growing up! Can you remember the white lies you were told as a child? Can you appreciate why they were used now that you are older and do you even use them yourself? Can you remember the emotions of realising that someone you looked up to and trusted had not been completely honest with you?
> 
> I got interested in the concept of our aura changing with our feelings, then wondered what those colours might be if, for example we lied. Story born!
> 
> Is this the start of the path towards being known as the Silvertongue?


End file.
